The Remedy is Worse Than the Disease
by IWriteNaked
Summary: I would have loved you. One shot. Trigger warning: rape


**I am finally angry enough to post this.**

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"You don't even care," Jace said as he wrapped both of his hands around her throat. She was laid out across his lap, his knees digging into her back, and her long red curls flowing down to the floor. It wasn't really Jace. It was one of the others that he turned into when things got out of hand. She could remember the first time he switched into a different person—when he started to struggle with Dissociative Identity Disorder (formerly known as Multiple Personalities Disorder). They were ten years old, and his father had just killed the falcon he'd spent months taming.

Clary stared blankly back at him. "About what?" she asked. She could barely speak above a whisper, and her lack of emotion was evident in her lifeless tone.

"Anything," he growled. His hands squeezed tighter, but only for a second. She called this one AJ. Aggressive Jace. Jace hated that she had given him a name. He said he didn't deserve a name.

"I care about you," Clary told him. And it was true. She cared about him more than anything, but it was over, and a big part of her was broken into irreparable pieces. She wasn't sure if it would ever get any better. Clary wasn't sure how she would heal when the worst thing had happened.

AJ growled at her. Growling was kinda his thing. "I could kill you right now, and you wouldn't even care."

"I love you," Clary whispered.

He blinked, trying to mask the shock. "He does too." AJ's tone was hard, but still made her stomach flip. Jace still loved her. She knew that already, but always found herself searching for validation.

"Will you send him back?" she asked hopefully. "I need to talk to Jace."

He smirked down at her, tightening his grip around her throat. "I'm not done here."

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

AJ glared at her, moving his hand from her neck to her collar bone, treading lightly down her chest. "What do you think?" he asked huskily.

Clary bit down on her lip. "Why are you doing this? Do you want me to be scared? Helpless? Would that make you feel better?"

"No," he told her. "I don't care if you're afraid or not."

"You don't scare me," she lied.

AJ shrugged. "That's not important to me. Fear isn't what I'm here for."

Clary bit her lip nervously. "What are you here for, AJ?"

He smirked. "Jace told you not to name me."

"It's too late for that."

His hand slid down to the button of her jeans. "It's too late for a lot of things."

Clary tried to smack his hand away, but he used his free hand to pin both of her arms above her head. "Don't." She tried to sound assertive, but her voice shook.

His eyes caught hers, and she stared blankly into them, hoping to find some type of clue as to where he was going with this. AJ smirked and popped the button open. She squirmed, but he didn't let her go. "Hold still," he demanded.

"Let me go!" she begged. It wasn't that she hadn't fooled around with AJ before, but that was different. It was her choice, and Jace had more control over his own actions at the time. And Clary only wanted Jace. She never wanted any of the others; just him.

"I'll let go," AJ said, "when I'm done."

She blinked rapidly, holding back tears. Clary told herself not to cry, but what she was about to do made her feel dirty. "Fine. Just send Jace back when you're finished."

His hands made their way into her panties, and she gasped. The prospect of cooperating made her mouth dry, but Clary didn't fight. "Tell me what you're thinking."

AJ was the only one who ever asked what she was thinking. She hated the question, and she hated him. "I've been thinking about how I wanted to be touched by these exact hands," she muttered, mostly to herself. AJ slipped one finger inside of her, and Clary clenched her eyes shut. "All I wanted was to be close, skin to skin, breathing each other's air." She paused, turning her face away from him.

"Keep going," he told her. His fingers began to move, and she tried to roll her hips away from him.

"But now I wish you were anywhere else."

AJ pushed Clary off of his lap, and she landed on the floor with a bang, and for a second she thought he would let her go. But then he stood up, lifting her back onto the bed, pinning her body down with his. "I'll go," he said, "when I'm finished."

She shut her eyes tightly. Looking into his eyes was like driving on ice. It made her feel like things were only seconds from spiraling out of control—and they were.

As AJ yanked Clary's jeans down her legs, dragging her panties down with them, she couldn't pretend she didn't want Jace to do this every day for the rest of her life. She couldn't pretend that she hadn't hoped to have found a savior instead of a demon.

She held the cotton fabric of AJ's shirt between her teeth as he thrust into her with so much force that it caused her to scoot up on the bed, her head colliding with the wall. He didn't stop to make sure she was okay. Jace would have.

Clary let her hands reach out, gripping the chain of the Superman necklace around his neck. She clung to something familiar, and focused on the end. She waited for it to be over, and when she found that she couldn't breathe, Clary began using her eyes to paint imaginary images on the canvas of his chiseled chest as he hovered above her on both hands. She spilled what was left of her into the painting, composed of globs of angry ink.

I hate you, she thought.

I hate you.

I hate you.

I hate you.

AJ broke Clary's spirit against her own mattress, but her heart still relentlessly beat on. She wished it wouldn't.

He had his way with her unresponsive body until all that was left was empty night.

When he finally released inside of her and rolled onto his back, Clary put her clothes back on with shaky hands, and, when she laid back down beside him, she could tell by the look of adoration that he was Jace again. He gazed at her with groggy eyes, as if he was waking up from a nap, and she knew he didn't remember a thing. "You're perfect," he told her.

You couldn't even imagine the sick twist in her stomach. "No I'm not."

He stared at her with so much intensity, and Clary wanted him to say it was the end. She wanted him to say anything. She wanted him to say that she was done waiting for someone to love her in the way she deserved. He never would.

"You're my kind of perfect."


End file.
